


Keeper of Hatred, Love Me Tender

by Cheepers



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Instincts, Animal Traits, BAMF Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Creature Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cursed Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Curses, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Feral Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Horses, Human/Monster Romance, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Monsterfucker Jaskier | Dandelion, Original Character Death(s), Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Spiders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29854149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheepers/pseuds/Cheepers
Summary: Curiosity killed the cat.The cat being a humble bard.Curiosity being a creature twice his size with a smoldering glare. Well, maybe it didn't kill the cat, just fucked with him a bit.In other words, Jaskier meets a dying witcher who warns him not to go into the western swamps. Naturally, he refuses to listen. Yennefer is unamused, yet loyal to her friends.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Wolves asleep among the trees

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a reccuring dream I had about a certain beast. He would read to me and hiss at me if I tried to touch him.

What was a bard if not one to invoke emotion? To do that, one must have a good story to tell. Julian was a man of adventure, you see, and no small feat would appease the masses. His latest song was a lullaby of woe, which earned him many hunks of bread thrown his way, yet sadly not enough coin for the next time he needed to rent a room. So he had gathered his belongings and took to the streets, checked every notice board and tavern for a lead.

He might have found adventure as a merchant or soldier, yet he had no wares to sell nor want to kill. What was a poor bardling to do but sit and wait for the perfect opportunity to fall into his lap?

___

The door of the inn slammed open as a trembling figure entered, his bloody left hand holding himself against the doorframe. His eyes were that of a cat's. His light armour soaked in gore, silver viper medallion splattered with some kind of inky blood. Jaskier broke a chord on his lute in shock. Not that anyone was listening anyway.

"Gods! Melitele, someone aid this poor man!" Jaskier sprang off the impromptu stage of an old crate, nearly twisting his ankle in the process. He might have tripped over a few patrons, but who the fuck cares about them when there's an injured man to save? The possibility of a new song to write? The innkeeper hissed at Jaskier.

"I'll not serve nor help that man. Are you daft? He's a Witcher! A freak! I'll not have him die in my inn. Take him outside." Jaskier glared daggers and flipped the I keep off as he looked over the witcher's wounds.

The stranger coughed more of that horrendous congealed blood. He was wheezing quite terribly by now. Jaskier wrapped his arm around the man, who gratefully leaned his full weight against him. This man, whoever he was, was no feather. Practically dragging him out to the stables where he was pointing, Jaskier leaned him against a hay bale where the Witcher promptly collapsed. The witcher's auburn hair was slick with sweat and his mouth was a grimace. Jaskier held his hand as the Witcher pointed once more, this time at a dappled gelding. 

"Rouge… my… take my horse. He'll need someone."

"You aren't dying on my watch dammit! What about your witchery potions?! Which one will-" Jaskier cried out as he rummaged through the horse's saddlebags. There were only contracts and letters. Nothing to help. The stranger gave a sharp laugh that cut out into another coughing fit. Black blood seeped further through his armour and down his mouth.

"You're… kind. Take him and take care… sorry for troubling you... But nothing will help me now. Stay away… from the swamps west of here… you shouldn't stray off the paths." The stranger's cat eyes were closing, and in a fit of fear, Jaskier shook the man frantically. The coughing had stopped.

The man was dead.

__

Jaskier searched the contents of the man's bags once more. Inside were the aforementioned letters, all signed by Tony, addressing someone by the name of... Jaskier at least had a name for the mysterious witcher. Daegar. His unfinished contracts had notes on the margins ('Killed by something with talons' 'marked with a suspicious scent'). There was enough coin to buy a room. Or more supplies. Why hadn't the Witcher been prepared? Why was his blood that of tar? Jaskier stewed and bubbled in his head. The gelding stamped his foot impatiently, narrowly missing Jaskier's. 

"Right, I haven't forgotten about you, my dear. Rouge, wasn't it? How are you, sweet thing?" The gelding huffed softly as Jaskier pet his cheek. The marbled horse tossed his head and sniffed at Jaskier's pockets. 

"I haven't the foggiest idea what you're wanting, my love. I've never been the best at reading horses unfortunately." The horse flicked its ears back and lunged at Jaskier's face. He narrowly dodged with a yelp and a nervous chuckle. 

"I see we have yet to be properly acquainted. At least your owner cared enough that his dying wish was even about you" he waggled his finger at the bratty nag. 

He resumed his rummaging, keeping a careful eye on the pissy gelding as he did so. There was one contract that made him pause however, and earned him a smashed foot from being distracted from Rouge's ire. 

' _Dear master witcher,_

 _Something has been taking our cows at night._ _We hear some kind of scuttling and clicking at all hours until dawn, yet we dare not see what it is making such horrid sounds. Trees nearby have been scratched up by tremendous claws'_ (a margin note left by Daegar reads 'possible territorial marking??') _'and the ground is covered in tracks so deep you'd think the beast was digging for gold! All the farms this side of the marsh are feeling the same problems as we. We don't have much, but we beg of some sort of solace.'_

Jaskier felt a tingle in his gut. He held the note against his chest. The soft crinkle of the paper made Rouge toss his head once more.

"Now I may be stupid, but this could be my chance, Rouge! I can solve the mystery of this creature myself, and have the perfect material for a story, or a song mind you, and I might just live to tell the tale! We must avenge this Daegar! Your master needs justice! The farmers need peace! I think I know just the person to ask for help. If she's not still mad at me…"

Rouge lunged for Jaskier's face yet again.


	2. Bats All a Swaying in the Breeze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The trail of treats, but instead of the three crones it's good ol' Geralt. More details soon...

Dawn had grasped the quaint village of Downwarren with her honeysuckle hands. The people milled about, chopping, trading, and talking, all taking care to avoid the barn and the sorceress who stood menacingly inside it. The stench of rot had not yet set in.

"So let me understand… You steal from me, then want me to leave the world of the living and wander the swamps with you? Do tell me again about the muck and filth and the hazardous beasts that wander the wastes. Especially one that killed your friend here." Yennefer gestured toward the corpse of the bloodied witcher. 

"Exactly! See, I knew you would understand, darling. And I didn't steal your journal, merely borrowed it for creative muse." Jaskier squatted down beside the body, retrieving the tarnished viper medallion from around Daegar's neck. Yennefer ground her teeth and scoffed. Jaskier hissed as the inked liquid grazed his skin. He promptly dropped the shiny bauble into the hay scattered on the ground. His hand sizzled and he let out a ragged cry. 

"Oh stop whining." Yennefer hushed him and held her hand out in Jaskier's face. In a flash of blue, the burning had ceased, leaving an angry scar, the color of ebony, on his lute-playing hand. Jaskier panted and shot her a look.

"You touch it then, if I'm so whiny. What the hell is that? What kind of creature turns normal blood corrosive? Is it a curse? Oh god am I cursed?! It's hideous!"

Yennefer facepalmed and groaned. She placed one delicate hand on her waist and bit the other's nails. She watched with bated breath as Jaskier once again attempted to lift the medallion, this time from the ground, and this time by the clean chain.

"I'm not, right?"

"No!" She burst. "Jaskier, either you tell me what I'm doing out here in this rank barn or I'm leaving you forever."

"I don't know, okay? I thought you would like, touch him and see what killed him or something."

"I'm a healer, Julian. Not a psychic. As for the blood, I'm detecting a magical origin, yet I haven't the slightest idea who or what caused it." Yennefer furrowed her brow and sighed.

"How bad do you want this story?"

"Badly" Jaskier jingled the necklace, which made Rouge prick his ears forward.

"I honestly don't know what I saw in you... The only support I can offer you is to make sure your pretty face heals up just right. I can't help you if you lose your entrails." 

"I simply need a second pair of eyes, my dear!"

"Or sword. Or a knife. Or a spear. Or-"

"Yes yes we shall be well prepared." Jaskier grumbled over her increasingly exasperated tone.

_

They buried the witcher.

He had no loved ones attend his side, only the company of complete strangers. Having fed and watered Rouge and paid for a mount for Yennefer (using what little coin the Witcher had left behind), the two set off for the path that took them closest to the swamps. 

__

"It's too fucking humid out here. I'm being eaten alive by mosquitoes." The black haired woman groused.

"Then by all means, do turn back around," Jaskier smiled.

"You are much too happy about this." She said suspiciously.

"Oh, I'm terrified. I once read that necrophages can sense fear. I'm trying my best to snuff it out." Jaskier's smile waned. 

Rouge was a jumpy horse. Not of fear, just of not wanting another being on his back. Twice now Jaskier's face had met the ground, and twice now he has had to calm the poor dappled beast. Yennefer's calm mare snorted, amused, like her rider it seemed. Already his rump was lifting off the ground every now and then. 

"Oh no you don't! Not again you little- lovely friend" Jaskier wearily exclaims. Rouge burred angrily, ears pinned flat against his grey neck. He wouldn't budge now, and it seems neither would yennefer's usually calm mare. Yennefer clicked her mouth, yet the mare pawed in the mud. There was a fork in the road; tiny white flowers bloomed in the little splotches of grass, where there wasn't as much water. The left of the fork was a well-traveled path, thin and winding, with small pink cookies hanging from the trees, tied to the branches with red twine. A statue carved from wood in the figure of some deity sat slouched, sinking deep into the muck.

"Trail of treats." Yennefer whispered under her breath. Jaskier said nothing. Rouge reared on his hind legs, promptly dropping Jaskier into the filth. Yennefer's oh so relaxed mare did the same. They both took off into the night. Yennefer flicked muck off her bodice and and shakily stood.

"Now what, genius?" Jaskier kept his eyes on the path, the viper medallion in his back pocket hummed softly.

"We'll walk then. This must be the place. The witcher thingy is buzzing." He whispered softly. He pushed himself up and took a small step forward as Yennefer grabbed his left arm. 

"Wait! This place feels… Wrong. Magically and physically. We really shouldn't. Don't you hear the rumors in taverns on our journey together? Those who follow the trail will have their fill. They never come back." She hissed, worry filling her violet eyes.

"Then let's have our fill, shall we?"

"You're mad!"

"Yennefer… I love you but… I'm no good at secrets. I have to see for myself." 

"Are you charmed? Why are you doing this? I don't sense it but-"

"I don't think so… I don't know why. I have to know."

"I don't like this. I'll follow you till the ends of the earth... but I don't like this." Jaskier held her hand and squeezed it tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no fucking clue why he wants to go in the trail omfg he's a fucking himbo

**Author's Note:**

> This might be a bit rough to read because I'm only used to doing sporadic poetry. Please bear with me as I get the hang of it. I also only used my OC because I didn't want to kill off Eskel or Lambert or Letho. Any of our witcher boys, really.


End file.
